IX
“Out of the way, assholes!” Limestone growled as she pushed through a gathering of guards and drunks, knocking over several glasses and nearly knocking one wobbly stallion over. I followed, a little less pushy, and nodded an apology—especially to the soaked guard gripping his spear a little tighter.
I caught up to Limestone just in time for another rant—not that I would have had trouble hearing her blocks away. “Why’s a mare always gotta swim through crap to get a drink after an honest day’s work, huh?” She shook her head and glared daggers at anything in her path. “What’s with all these lowlifes? This is the town of ‘everything,’ yet none of these bucks can even handle their liquor? Bah! Pathetic.” She spat on the cobblestone.
“It’s Friday,” I said. No point in doing anything but playing along. I knew this would happen as soon as the invitation had come in. Limestone would go on and on about not going to Canterlot for some ‘stupid’ party, would work all day every day of the week, and finally decide at dusk Friday—today—to catch a train to ‘get wasted on the good stuff’ before Pinkie’s party.
‘Good stuff.’ Sure. As expected, I followed her on a beeline to the first tavern with ads for the cheapest cider and posters for the local sports teams covering the doors. I made sure to cut in front of her before we reached the door. She cursed, pushed, but if she had lead the way, some poor sod was getting knocked out.
The tavern itself was pretty nice. Dim but navigable, not much smoke in the air, patrons from all walks of life sitting around and talking—socialite here, artist there, a table of helmetless guards chatting it up near the door. Too clean and too bright for Limestone. ‘Pretentious manure,’ she would call it. I turned, expecting her to be stomping out the door, ready to punch the first pony she saw. Instead I found myself looking only at wood.
Uh oh.
“Hey!” Limestone pulls on the back of my dress before I could start my search. “We getting wasted or what?”
I sighed. “Sure,” I said as we made our way to the bar. “This place serves drinks on the rocks?”
“Of course, it’s a damn bar—” Suddenly Limestone’s eyes went wide and she groaned. “As if I hadn’t heard that joke enough from Pinkie.”
“She got it from me.”
“Well your jokes suck.” She waved the barkeep over.
I shrugged. “Pinkie and Marble like them.” Should I? I bit the inside of my cheek and continued, “I guess you could say that, for you, they cross the lime.”
Limestone did not even bother glaring. “Yo!” she growled. “Rum and cola. Captain Celano’s. And double that crap.” She finally looked in my direction. ‘Death would be too good for me,’ it read. “Triple it if Little Miss Chucklebuck here doesn’t check herself.”
“And I’ll have a Canterlot Crown... on the rocks.”
“Triple it,” Limestone grumbled. “You’re the worst.”
“I try.” Maybe I was going overboard, but if I did not get the fun in now, it would not come later. A couple more drinks, and the yelling and punching would start. Then I would have to drag Limestone to some hotel to sleep off her bruises and hangover. Not a great Friday.
Once we were served, silence became the topic of conversation. I was halfway through my first drink—and Limestone her third—when a twangy voice broke in between us. “Ya’ll not even gonna come say ‘Hi’?” A strong hoof fell upon my withers.
Limestone buried her face in her hooves. “Hey, Applejack,” I said.
The farmer looked the same as always: hat pulled back, mane tied in a tight ponytail—though a few strands did hang loose along her shoulders. I glanced behind me and found the culprit sitting at a table near the back wall. Rainbow Dash waved a wing as her hooves cradled a mug of cider. Her mane was a little off-level as well. Whether from Applejack’s hooves or just being Rainbow Dash, I could not tell.
“Sorry,” I said once I realized Applejack was still waiting glassy-eyed for a response, “didn’t notice you two.”
Applejack stared at Limestone. “Heh, oh, I understand.” She patted hard enough to sting. “Reckon I’ll forgive ya if you join us for a drink.” She waved down the bar. “Dregs! Two Sweet Apple Acres ciders. From the gold barrel, yeah?”
I took a sip. “I already have a drink.”
She tossed her mug in the air and caught it on her head without a slosh. “Ya really turnin’ down a birthday present, ya silly filly?”
“My birthday’s tomorrow.”
Applejack smirked. “Might wanna check the clock.”
I sighed. She was right. Kinda surprised Pinkie hadn’t popped out of the cider mug complete with party hat and streamers yet. I finished my drink with a burning gulp, got up, and followed Applejack to the table. Rainbow Dash eyed the two mugs with a frown. “Hey, where’s mine?” she whined.
“You’ve had more than enough, sugarcube,” Applejack said. Rainbow disagreed but kept her lips pursed in a pout.
I had a thousand questions worth asking. One was what they were doing in Canterlot—though I knew the answer to that one already. Pinkie was never good at the ‘surprise’ part of surprise birthday parties.
Another, as I looked around the tavern from this angle, was why all the guards? Of course, I pretty much knew that answer as well. I had read rumblings in the newspapers mentioning this new Empire that had literally appeared out of thin air (unicorn magic never makes sense to me) may not be the nicest bunch. Rumors of skirmishes, farms razed in the north. Rumors—but could explain the amount of armor and spears laying around. I would be drinking up if there was a fight around the corner too. I took a deep swig of cider.
“Hey!” Rainbow’s hoof punched me back to the table. “You even listening to me?”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled and nodded to the bar, right where Limestone had been sitting. I did not hear any yelling, but maybe she was already at the chokehold stage. I gulped down another mouthful of cider. Then I caught sight of her. I nearly tipped my chair to the ground.
Limestone was talking to somepony, and from what I could tell it was a civilized conversation. I could not get a good look, but they were a pegasus, greenish blue, white mane—mare from the build. They were leaning a bit close to Limestone, and…. Limestone leaned even closer to them. Shoulder to shoulder. “Liquor’s kicking in,” I mumbled.
“Your sister’s gonna bang a Wonderbolt,” Rainbow chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Jealoussss—ow!” She rubbed her foreleg and grinned at a glaring Applejack. “Heh, not being serious, AJ.”
Applejack snorted and straightened her hat. “So, Maud, how’s the ol’ rock farm treatin’ ya?’
“Same as always.”
“Find any, uh, any neat rocks?”
“Marble found a deposit of lapis lazuli the other day with flakes of pyrite and calcite.”
They blinked.
“It is blue and yellow and white.”
“Oh, that’s pretty neat,” Applejack said. “Bet they were mighty pretty.”
“Tears were shed.”
“Cool…” Rainbow leaned back and looked around. “Hey! I bet if Fleetfoot’s here, that means Spitfire’s here too. I should check if my application for the Bolts went through.” She rose with a flap of her wings but was pulled down by the tail.
“Now, Rainbow,” Applejack said, muffled by the hair, “ain’t kind to be runnin’ off on guest. ‘Specially on their birthday.”
Rainbow groaned. “I’ll have plenty of time to talk to her at the party. C’mon, AJ.” She looked at me with big eyes while Applejack shook her head.
“I don’t mind,” I said. Rainbow was gone in a blur before Applejack could let go completely. The farmer gagged and brushed strands of reds and blues and greens from her tongue.
“Lapis lazuli, huh?” A new voice entered the picture. I turned around. A white stallion looked back. Earth pony, blue mane, sitting at a table with three other ponies who might as well have made up quadruplets. They all wore armor. “That’s my birthstone.”
I blinked. Lucky guess. Could tell from his delivery he had no idea what he was talking about—and clearly he was not from Trottingham—but I let him have his moment. “Mine’s bloodstone,” I said.
“That’s my favorite. Love that name. And that… bloodstoney look.”
I looked over at Applejack. She rolled her eyes. Agreed.
The legs of his stool scratched the floor as he turned. “Sweet Apple Acres cider, huh? Best there is.”
Applejack smiled. “Well, thank ya kindly. I always make su—”
“Like anything else?”
“Depends.”
“Saw you had a glass of something else up there.”
Persistent. Applejack was scooting closer to me, hooves pressing into the table. I did not want to start a scene, so I answered, “Just a Canterlot Crown.” Applejack winced and groaned.
“Excellent choice,” he said, leaning forward some more. “Care for another?”
“Not from a stranger.”
“Not even another birthday present?” I did not answer. “Don’t worry, I ain’t a stalker. That friend of yours just talks loud.” I kept quiet. He sighed. “Sunward Spear’s the name.”
“Maud Pie.”
“Alright, Maud. Strangers no more. So… how about that—”
“I would rather not.” I looked toward the bar where Limestone and the pegasus—her name escaped me already—sat temple to temple. “I am the designated carrier.”
“You sure? I can help—”
“I’m fine.”
“Really, no joke, I—”
“I am fine.” Fire coursed through my veins. Judging by his flinch, he could see it in my eyes. He turned his stool around and sighed an apology that was not clear. I looked over at Applejack. She mouthed, ‘Damn.’ No big deal. I wasn’t trying to be mean, but the stone never proves its point gently.
Something fell to the floor beside me. I looked down. A spear. Mr. Desperate must have knocked it over. Sure enough, two hooves grasped it. I heard Sunward Spear mumble, ‘Sorry’ as he picked it up.
Then I heard the rip.
I looked at my dress. Ripped right up the side. My hind leg was visible all the way to the cutie mark. No pain, though. No blood from what I could tell. I glared up at the culprit. Sunward Spear, complete with namesake shaking in his hooves as he stared wide-eyed straight at the rip. “I’m so sorry.” He did not look away. No, he leaned forward, placing the spear against the wall while reaching straight for—
I stood.
He raised his hooves. “I’m sorry, Maud,” he repeated. He leaned forward again. Pig. “You’re not hurt are you? Did it cut you? I swear that was an accident, I—”
The rest of his words fell upon the table. I marched past the bar. Limestone pulled her lips free from the Wonderbolt’s as I passed. “Maud?” I didn’t bother answering. I was ruining her night. Too bad. I couldn’t stay there.
“Maud, wait!” I shouldn’t have looked but I did. Sunward Spear had risen, his posse following behind. Applejack stood nearby as well, but not giving chase. The whole bar sat frozen—everything was still. “I know how it looks but I swear that was a complete accident. I would never… I’m sorry… Look, I just wanna make sure I didn’t cut you.” He stooped down again, stared right at the cut in my dress as he approached. He reached out.
You want to feel my legs, huh? Feel this.
One kick. Right to the muzzle. Direct hit. Crunch. Would’ve stomped on his bloody face again but somepony grabbed me from behind. “What the fuck, Maud?” Limestone’s voice shook. I looked down, around. Sunward lay on the ground, groaning as blood bubbled from his nose. Rainbow Dash stood next to Applejack ready for a fight while the farmer held her down. Limestone just stared. Not glared. Stared.
“Sorry,” I said before zoning out.
The rest of the night went by in a series of blurry flashes. Some questioning, a threat or two of charges by Sunward’s buddies. Sunward himself told them off, said it was his fault. That it was an ‘accident’ but he understood. Either he was standing hard by his story or it was the truth. Could’ve just been the concussion talking. All I knew was that I wanted nothing to do with him or that city for long time.
“Maud!” Limestone chased me down Main, sprinting to catch up with my march towards the train station. My dress was still ripped, my flank stinging in the chill mountain air. “C’mon, Maud! Pinkie ... your party... Wait up, dammit! Talk to me!” she roared. She always did. No effect.
“You can stay.” She didn’t respond. She frowned as always, but the daggers in her eyes were dull. She sighed and followed. “I’ll write her a letter,” I mumbled. “She’ll understand.”
I did not write that letter. She still understood—or at least, I liked to assume she did. I expected her to pop up at the farm one day, cake and party blowers in hoof. Maybe she would have, had she gotten the chance.